


i've got a heart in me (i swear)

by hopskipaway



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Fractured Fairy Tale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23165422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopskipaway/pseuds/hopskipaway
Summary: Belonging was not a familiar word in the Book of John Murphy.That was a fact that seemed grounded in concrete; what he wouldn't give to stumble upon a sledgehammer someday and be reunited with his bruised and feeble, but still beating, heart.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/John Murphy
Comments: 17
Kudos: 56
Collections: Chopped Madness





	i've got a heart in me (i swear)

**Author's Note:**

> CHOPPED: MADNESS - QUALIFYING ROUND
> 
> THEME: canon verse
> 
> FEATURING: bellamy blake 
> 
> TROPE 1: ugly duckling au  
> TROPE 2: a.l.i.e. as a good guy.

_“Maybe he will grow into that nose.”_

_“He’s just not very bright, is he?”_

_“Why couldn’t it have been you instead?”_

_“You’re going to pay for this.”_

_“Shut up, 285.”_

_“I say we float him!”_

_“He deserves to die!”_

The words ricocheted in his head as he stumbled deeper and deeper into the woods. Brain foggy and limbs weak, he had no destination in mind.

He couldn’t go back to the Dropship, he knew that for sure. He heard Bellamy’s words, the threat that laid there, he had been replaying them for days now. Or had it been weeks?

Time had slipped through his fingers like water. Though, that was not a new feeling for the young man; in fact, that feeling had felt like home back on the Ark, finding rare solace from knife sharp words and the stench of alcohol within the four walls of his bedroom, wasting the days away.

Now though, it felt unpredictable and threatening. He had no way of knowing when the last time he ate. When his battered and broken body would try to mend itself back together. 

He came across a river by accident, as most things in his life came to be. The water still and pristine, what would be an untouched sanctuary to most. To him, however, it was proof of his own ugliness.

He began rinsing off the trauma from his bruised body and he watched the clear blue water turn murky. Thinking to himself that it was as if everything he touched was doomed to be tainted. 

If he looked hard enough, could see a wobbling reflection. The boy looked weak, and sad. This was not new or surprising information. The boy had looked that way long before his feet ever touched the earth. 

He had yet to take a good look at himself ever since he was merely fourteen years old and stored away the only mirror the small family could afford. This action had been met with no protest, his mother no longer caring about trivial things like appearances or her son. He remembered looking into that mirror everyday and seeing the little family photograph tucked into its corner; he remembered the growing disparity between the carefree child and the now gaunt teenager staring into the reflection. He eventually decided that he did not want to be reminded of either of them anymore.

 _Some things never change_.

* * *

Eventually, the thick forest turned into an endless desert. Onward he went, hoping that if he went far enough, he would find the end of the world waiting for him.

The bag he had found countless miles back did not help him much in his plight. A measly amount of water and a few cloths was all the thin bag begrudged to gift him. 

Although when the wind picked up he found himself grateful for something to cover his eyes with, so he couldn’t be ungrateful. For the inches of his skin he could not shelter, he felt his skin crusting over with dryness and sand; forming yet another shell over his cracked and broken heart.

No longer able to force his feet to move against the blustering winds, he settled down against a dune. Water bottle clutched to his chest, the only precious thing he had left.

He drifted off at some point, jolting awake to words that did not register in his brain.

“Chon yu bilaik?”

His slow to open eyes, still abused and grainy, registered a knife pointing towards him along with hardened eyes.

Opening his mouth to speak, he found days and days of silence blocking his words. Trying again, he managed a feeble, “I don’t speak Grounder.”

“I said, who are you?”

“John Murphy,” His mouth supplied the words before his brain could stop him. He stopped being John Murphy long ago. “Murphy, call me Murphy.”

“Okay _John_ , you’re going to do as I say,” If he could have managed an eye roll, he would have. Instead he stared imploringly back at the girl. She seemed tough and fiery. A rather big facial tattoo peaking out from her own face cover. If he had the energy, he might have been frightened.

“You are going to give us everything you have, and then you are going to walk back into the woods,” She gestured towards the way he came, and when his gaze followed, he noticed she was not alone. A man, with an even bigger knife, stood a few feet away.

“You’re looking at everything I have,” He managed to give a soft chuckle. “I don’t care, take it.”

“You-“ She cut herself off with a raised brow and a shake of her head. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m not really sure. Dying, I suppose.”

“You are alone? Where are your people?”

He let himself think of them, if only for a brief moment.

Belonging was not a familiar word in the Book of John Murphy. He had belonged to his father, once, long ago. Anyone could see that in the blue eyes and sharp faces that they shared - that they _used to_ share.

He thought he found belonging again when dark eyes and a dangerous smirk chose him all those days ago, back at the Dropship. From the moment _‘someone’s got to help me run things’_ was uttered, he lost control of the leash he had been keeping on his wayward heart. That same silly heart ached to think of the betrayal. Stupid, was another feeling he felt. He had learned a long time ago to not let yourself get attached. If you don’t let anyone in, you have nothing to lose. Thinking about Bellamy Blake though, he found himself empty.

“I don’t have anyone. It’s just me,” He tried to put snark into his words, but they came out sad and broken.

The girl then looked at her partner and uttered more words he couldn't begin to understand.

“Nou em. Em ste kwel,” Accompanied by a shake of her head.

Whatever it was that she said, it made them both drop their defensive stances. Knives dropping from their accusatory positions.

Then, curiously, she slung her bag onto the ground and began rummaging through it. He noticed one hand awkwardly fumbled with the zipper beneath a large amount of wrapping. The girl pulled out a number of shiny metal objects and cloth-wrapped bundles. She picked out one of the latter and offered it to him.

“You need this more than us,” She removed the scarf against her face and gave him a gentle smile; it seemed unfamiliar and awkward on her features.

“Why are you doing this for me?”

“We only target those who have something to lose,” she admitted.

“That’s pretty rude, I’m a catch,” Falling back into his well-worn self deprecation was more easy and comfortable than the dangerous road his mind had been travelling down.

It worked for her though; a gentle laugh escaped her lips.

“If you’d like, you can walk with us for a while.”

It was a tempting offer, and he thought about it. Though only for a split second. His heart lurched at the thought, as it had been screaming and yearning for an end to his solitude. Though, he knew better than to listen to that traitor.

“Nah, I am better off solo,” He said, the words feeling like razor blades. “See you in another life?”

“I’d like that John,” Her smile this time was warm and genuine. “Look for Emori.”

 _Emori_.

He thought he could have loved Emori, once.

* * *

He thought he had found it. The end of the world.

Turns out, the world kept going. 

He had climbed aboard a boat and rowed until his arms got sore. Finding shore on the other side, he found more woods and it was a welcome reprieve from the relentless sand and wind. 

Stumbling and tripping over his feet, his attention was drawn towards the sky. A little drone, floating mere feet above him. It moved ahead, seeming to beckon him forward.

 _Well, not like he had anything better to do_.

The little blinking piece of metal led him into a little clearing, and he could not have possibly prepared himself for what he would find. 

A massive bright house, untouched by the harsh world, stood menacingly before him. Something about it made the warning alarms go off in his brain; though alone and hungry, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He paused after opening the door, feeling like he couldn’t enter. Not physically, but he felt as though he wasn’t good enough to step foot in something so grand and beautiful.

“Please. Come in,” A voice echoed from inside, making him jump.

With hesitant steps, he walked the long hall until he was met with a lady as put together as the house. Her red dress made for a staunch contrast against white interior. The questions swirled in his brain. How could this place exist while the rest of society fought and killed and pillaged in the dirt? Yet here this island stood, the picture of wealth.

“You have many questions.”

“Uh… yeah?”

“My name is Alie. I am here to help you.”

“With what… exactly? You don’t even know me.”

“My directive is to-“ Her impassive expression dimmed for a moment. “My directive is to-“

“Please, take your time. It’s not like I’m half dead or anything.”

“I seem to have misplaced my directive.”

“Okay look, I don’t have time for this. Name’s Murphy. I’m going to find someplace to crash.”

He knew he was being rude, but his exhaustion was catching up to him fast and he felt he might fall into a pile right in front of this lady’s - _Alie’s_ feet any minute. Making his way farther into the house, he stumbled and bumped right into her.

Well, he _should_ have. 

Instead he found himself careening into the floor, going right through her… or, it?

“ _Well that’s weird_ ,” he thought before promptly passing out.

* * *

Oddly enough, he decided to stay there.

With running water, endless food, and a walking database why wouldn’t he?

He spent his days learning to cook, dancing to music, and learning about the time before.

Alie, it seemed, was an AI created to make humans’ lives better. Though somewhere over the years, her code degraded, and she lost whatever mission she was supposed to carry out.

All that remained was her need to help humans, she just needed a little bit of help with the _why_.

Once you got past her robotic speech and impenetrable stare, she was actually a good friend. The thought made him laugh; leave it to him to have his first real friendship be with an inanimate line of code.

“What is so funny, John Murphy?”

She had learned his full name a few weeks into his stay, and for all his attempts she would not stop using it. For some reason, it didn’t bother him as much as it normally would.

“Just… what am I doing here?” He found it easier to open up to her, easier than it had been with anyone else. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sad. I just don’t know what to do.”

“You are sad.”

“No, I’m not, actually.”

“Yes, you are,” Her appraising gaze zoned in all over his face. “I can see it in your face. I have been equipped to detect human emotion. You are… lonely.”

“Ah, I’m fine. I have you.”

“You need people, John Murphy.”

“Me and people? We don’t get along.”

“Statistically, there must be at least three suitable humans.”

He decided to humour her.

“I guess Emori didn’t hate me. Maybe her travelling partner too, I mean he didn’t kill me at least… My dad? Nah, he’s dead he probably wouldn’t count… I suppose, there was Bell-“

With a shake of his head, he dismissed the thought.

“Who is this Bell?”

“Bell _amy_. You know him. From the Dropship.”

“I recall now. The one you like.”

A startled yelp escaped him, “I do not like him!”

Red faced and huffing, he left the room.

He didn’t see Alie tilt her head in thought.

* * *

Murphy was careening his head back and forth, attempting to decipher the words to an old risotto recipe when Alie showed up, much to his dismay.

“Hello John Murphy. I know you did not ask, but I have information you must know.”

“I’m a little busy here,” He continued stirring the pot, not wanting this one to turn out like the last. “Hey, can you put on that song from the other day… the one about the sea? I liked that one.”

“It pertains to the end of the world.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nuclear power plants are melting down as we speak. In six months time humanity will be doomed. Black rain will come first. There will be no drinkable water. Precancerous lesions will form on-“

“Okay okay okay - I get it,” The simmering pot sat forgotten on the stove. “What can we do?”

“I do not know. I used to have a plan. I no longer have one. All I want is for you to be happy.”

“Well,” He let out a puff of air, “Helping me not die _would_ make me happy.”

“Very good. I will begin gathering appropriate information. Will it be just you? Are there any other humans we should save?” She did her annoying head tilt, the one that let Murphy know that whatever she was thinking couldn’t be good.

“No. Just me.”

“There is no one else?”

“I know what you are doing,” With a sigh, he admitted, “And it’s working, you bitch.”

He tried to forget. He really had. Yet everyday, without fail, he thought of him. Chocolate eyes and a constellation of freckles entered his mind without permission. He wondered if he was okay, where he was, if he could ever forgive Murphy.

“I have been monitoring the location of your people based on your descriptions. I can tell you their coordinates.”

He let the thought ruminate for a moment before deciding.

“What the hell, let’s save humanity.”

* * *

Where the hell was he? He was starting to think his life would be nothing but stumbling through the woods. It'd been hours and he was starting to think he was lost. 

He looked down to consult his crudely marked map again, cursing his poor writing skills.

He was just about to start walking again when another constant in his life appeared: being startled by voices.

“Murphy?”

No. It couldn’t be.

Turning around, he realized that yes, it was.

Bellamy Blake was standing there, looking dumbfounded.

“You look… different.”

Did he? He could never bring himself to look in the mirrors at Alie’s house. Old habits die hard.

“You look the same,” Murphy admitted, not wanting to finish the thought though, _you always look good_ , is what he wanted to tell him.

“Where have you been?”

“Eh, a little bit of everywhere...” With a jolt, he realized he actually had news to bring. “Anyways, would love to chat but the world is ending, nuclear meltdown and all that, so we better get to your camp and warn everyone.”

He gestured for Bellamy to take the lead, and in passing he noticed the familiar twinkling in Bellamy’s eyes when he looked at Murphy back in the early days on Earth.

They fell into a silence walking side by side; Murphy, because he was used to it and Bellamy, because he was too shocked to say anything.

When Bellamy did find the nerve to speak up, it came out as if his word had been thrown into a garage disposal; an appliance that Murphy had grown rather fond of. “I…You… Where… Look, it’s good to see you.”

“No need to flatter me, I’m helping you either way.”

“No, I mean that Murphy. I thought of you everyday. I handled things so badly and I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Bygones, am I right?”

“Murphy! Stop dismissing this. I am telling you I missed you. I missed this.”

“What do you want me to say, Bell?” Murphy replied with a scoff, “It’s whatever, let’s just move on and deal with this so I can go back to Alie’s.”

“Alie? Is she your…”

“What?”

“...girlfriend?”

“Considering she’s a hologram, no,” He shot an amused look at the older man. “She’s not my type anyways.”

“Oh… I see. That’s… good.”

The amused look turned into one of confusion and apprehension.

Before he could voice his concern, a pair of arms were gripping Murphy’s shoulders and pulling him in close, wrapping around him in one swift movement. Murphy let himself melt into the hug, letting himself for just one blessed moment enjoy the comfort.

Soon enough though, he knew it had to end. 

He pulled back, “Look Bellamy, I know I probably seem really pathetic stumbling back into the woods after god knows how long, but I don’t need a pity hug.”

“Murph, that wasn’t pity,” Bellamy’s hands moved back to Murphy’s shoulder and kept up the reassuring touch. “You are my biggest regret… that I left you. That I made you feel like that. You didn’t deserve that.”

“You don’t know what I deserve.”

“Yes, I do. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I’ve seen so much loss and pain and I can guess you have as well… But I’d like to spend the rest of whatever time we have left not hurting each other.”

Bellamy punctuated the statement with another quick hug, and this time Murphy didn’t pull back. He could feel the cracks of his walls breaking.

“I’m not like you. I’m not good or right or… beautiful,” Murphy croaked out, voice breaking and admitting things without his control.

“You are all that and more. You are one of us. You are a part of the hundred,” He joined their hands together, “Now, let’s go home.”

 _Home_. He liked the sound of that.

* * *

“Honey, I’m home!” Murphy shouted into an empty white hallway, much to the amusement of his travelling party.

They probably all thought that he was off his rocker, and for them this was probably just quick outing to test Murphy’s sanity.

He was crazy, perhaps, but he wasn’t _insane_.

“Wow, an empty house. I sure am glad you dragged me out for this,” Murphy noted that Jasper had grown more jaded in the time since Murphy saw him last, but no less humorous.

“Look on the bright side, maybe they have some more alcohol for you to kill your kidneys with,” Sounded Monty, an oddly scathing remark.

Raven, the girl Murphy had not met before this, walked further into the hallway muttering to herself about the mechanics of an AI hologram; things all way above Murphy’s education level.

Murphy couldn’t hold back his boisterous laugh when Alie finally popped into existence. As the normally stoic Clarke jumped. Amused and awed stuck smiles came onto Monty and Jasper’s faces. Raven’s jaw literally dropped, the gears in her head momentarily stuck.

“John Murphy, you have returned,” Alie seemed pleased, which made an unwanted blush colour Murphy’s cheek.

“Yeah, I uh, never finished that risotto.”

“You have brought guests as well,” Her eyes began scanning the crowd of newcomers until she found one she recognized. “Bellamy Blake, it is nice to meet you.

The man in question stepped forward from his spot behind Murphy, “How does it know me?”

Before Alie could respond Murphy piped up, “She knows everyone, its kind of her thing.”

“I do not know anyone else here.”

The blush returned with fervor.

“Ignore her, she’s… broken.” He explained, lamely.

“I’m Clarke Griffin. This is Monty, Jasper and Raven. Murphy told us you can help us?” Murphy had never been more grateful for Clarke’s talent for shifting the situation in her favour.

“You could also tell us about your interface. You know, for the good of humanity?” Raven spoke up.

He let the rest of the conversation drown out. He could only hear the low background murmur of Clarke and Monty discussing the fate of the world, and Raven and Jasper’s awe of Alie.

With a tug on his arm, he was brought back to reality and into one of the adjacent rooms.

“What do you want, Blake?” Dreading the conversation ahead, Murphy raised his heckles.

The smug smile on the other man’s face made him want to retreat into a cave.

“So… you talk about me a lot?”

“Only how stupid and ugly you are.”

“I’m sure,” Bellamy said, slowing encroaching into Murphy’s personal space.

“Don’t go getting a big head about it. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I’m sure,” Bellamy repeated.

“I talked about plenty of people. She’s just broken.”

“I’m sure.”

Murphy was finding himself digging himself farther and farther into a hole and didn’t know what to say to haul himself out of it.

Luckily, he didn’t have to say anything.

Bellamy broke the silence with a quick inhale of breath and a step forward, “…Fuck it. If the world really is ending-“

He kissed him.

Bellamy Blake, the Beautiful, the Brave, the Baffling, was kissing John Murphy.

It was a father tucking a son in tight; making sure to take extra care to cinch the feet beneath a cozy blanket. It was the first feeling of fresh air entering the lungs; pure freedom felt for the first time. It was the feeling of sunshine penetrating the skin; feeling energized, at peace, and safe all at once. It was everything and more.

It was, until Raven walked in, “Hey lovebirds, you can kiss all you want once we save the world.”

* * *

To save the world you need: A spaceship, an endless supply of fuel and food, countless bunkers, and a whole valley destined to survive the impending apocalypse; Alie knew about all of it. All that had been missing was a human worth saving.

The grounders made quick work spreading the word to each of their clans, filling up bunkers fast. A healthy amount of sky-people, with their endless knowledge of surviving in a tin can, filled up the excess.

Much of the hundred decided to make the trek into space. Still not quite comfortable with the harsh world of the ground and wanting to retreat to the familiarity of space for awhile.

Curiously, some grounders elected to leave the ground, their home behind. A wild haired hippie and her band of misfits, a familiar girl and boy with sharp eyes and big hearts, and a war battered commander looking for reprieve all included.

Murphy, too, had agreed to join the rest of the space travelers. A curious metal backpack in tow. Days of solitude left him wary of bustling bunkers or a vast valley. Space seemed like the kind of peace he would appreciate.

He thought about all of this, and it brought a smile to his face as he looked out into the excess of space, down to an Earth he knew would soon ruin itself. Though he had hope that it would one day begin to be regrown from the ashes of its past. His focus shifted and he saw himself; not John, the boy of his past, or Murphy, the hardened shell of a human. He saw John Murphy. 

He was bruised, and tired, and a little bit broken. He also saw light, and happiness, and maybe even beauty. He saw what he had been trying to find for so many years; though he hadn’t known it was hiding so close to home. He saw a man he hopes his father would be proud of.

“Hey, what’s got you so happy?” A strong arm reached around his waist and another face joined his in the reflection, this one soft and warm with caramel skin and a mess of dark curls atop it. A quick and gentle kiss to the younger man’s cheek made his smile grow impossibly wider.

“Everything.” Was all he could reply.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for saving the world with me, a.l.i.e, and murphy!
> 
> come say hi to us on [twitter](https://twitter.com/hopskipaway) or [tumblr](https://hopskipaway.tumblr.com/).


End file.
